Why He Runs
by AftShID
Summary: What is the Doctor running from or towards? Just a short moment in an average day of the Doctor. Can be read as any Doctor, past or future or present. Reviews would be appreciated. :)


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to Doctor Who. **

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_Doctor… DOCTOR… DoctorDoctorDoctor…_

The voices in his head.

_DoctorDoctorDoctor…_

They never stopped calling.

_DOCTOR… Doctor… DoctorDoctor…_

Male, female, adult, child. An endless, pleading chorus following him across all of time and space.

_Doctor… Doctor… DOCTORDOC-_

With a loud gasp The Doctor lurched upright, finding himself beneath the main floor of the console room with tools spread out beside him, loose coils of the TARDIS console dangling about his face. Exhaling slowly he rubbed the back of one hand across his eyes, realising he must have nodded off while tinkering with the telepathic circuits of his beloved ship.

"Yes… right… Sorry old girl," the Time Lord muttered, leaning forward to reconnect two sparking fuses. The TARDIS gave a reassuring hum and the Doctor sighed in relief. "You have the patience of a Bandovian Eternal, and that's saying something. How could I fall asleep in the middle of a job? Inexcusable." There was a disapproving rumble and the Doctor winced, knowing the TARDIS was scolding him for not having slept in two weeks straight. "All right, all right, I know," he muttered under his breath as he found his feet and trotted up the stairs to the main floor of the console room. "But I have gone longer without sleep, you know that." Bracing himself on the edge of the console the Doctor studied the array of flashing lights before him, trying to ignore the the shuddering, lurching disapproval the TARDIS was displaying about what she considered to be his cavalier attitude towards his health. With a disgruntled huff he slammed a hand down on a blinking orange button. "And you can stop doing that! I know the time winds are calm outside. You throwing me against a wall and giving me concussion isn't going to help things is it?"

The simple truth was, the older he got, the harder the Doctor found it to sleep. It wasn't as though he didn't need to, because he did. His head ached, his eyes were gritty and there were some days when he felt as if he was wading mentally through a thick, murky fog just to get his brain to work at the level expected for one of his species. He was exhausted and alone. Alone after saying farewell to his latest companion; a bright young thing from the planet Majora Lixa. She had travelled with the Doctor for a month, never noticing anything was amiss with her host. None of them ever did. Oh, it wasn't their fault, not really. Time Lord biology was a mystery to all of them, his higher brain functions so far exceeding the genius range of most other species out there, they had no hope of realising just how badly he was struggling. To all who travelled with him he seemed bright, witty and energetic, just as he wished it.

Groaning plaintively, the TARDIS settled back to calmly floating through the vortex while the Doctor allowed his shoulders to slump forward and his chin to come to rest on his chest, his palms taking his weight on the console as he let out a little groan himself. It was a funny thing; he travelled forwards and backwards in time, but all of it was the past to him. The year five trillion as distant a point in his history as the day the stars exploded and gave birth to the universe. All that history… so much… time. It haunted him, chased him, nipped at his heels when he least expected it, brought him to his knees when he could least afford it, turned him inside out until he clawed at his head and silently screamed for it to just stop. Stop being there. Stop reminding him. Stop torturing him with things long lost, never to be regained.

"It's too quiet." The Doctor straightened up, tousling his hair with both hands in a gesture of frustration. "I can't do it, old girl. I need life and noise and laughter. I need to move. I can't be still… I just can't. You understand. You must." And she did, she always did, even when she didn't want to. His marvellous ship. Of course she understood. She was so much bigger on the inside too. All of space and time crammed into her heart… the things she knew, the secrets she kept. The Doctor gave a faint smile as he pulled a lever, pushed some buttons, and set course for yet another destination, while giving the console a reassuring pat. "Onwards, old girl. What else can I do? What else do I have? I'll sleep tomorrow, I promise. Then all will be well again… You'll see…"

The TARDIS accepted the wishes of her pilot and the little blue box hurtled through the vortex, spinning like a top, knowing no matter how fast she and her thief ran they would never catch tomorrow. It was always just out of their reach.


End file.
